


I Will Be Earth

by saintnoname



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Buried Alive, Flashbacks, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Wade isn't dead I promise!, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:31:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintnoname/pseuds/saintnoname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade is buried alive.  Bucky has to go looking for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Be Earth

_I will be earth, you be the flower,_

_You have found my root, you are the rain._

_I will be boat, and you the rower._

_You rock me and toss me, you are the sea._

_How be steady earth that is now a flood._

_The root is the oar afloat where has blown our bud._

_We will be desert, pure salt the seed._

_Burn radiant love, born scorpion need._

_-May Swenson_

It’s dark.  Pitch black, in fact.  That’s the first thing Wade notices as he groggily comes to.  The second thing he notices is the dirt in his throat.  It’s suffocating, clinging to the walls of his esophagus and the roof of his mouth.  He rolls onto his side and coughs it up.

Ah.  Now he can breathe, though not very well.  The air is stuffy as he lifts his hand, holds it in front of his face.  Nope.  He can’t see a damn thing.  He reaches out to feel out his surroundings, but he doesn’t get very far before hitting wood.  He pauses, runs his hand along it, and rolls over.  His hand meets wood on that side, too, and above him.

He’s in a coffin, and presumably underground.  “Oh, fuck on a stick,” he curses in the tired manner of someone who’s had to deal with this kind of shit one too many times.  But that’s just the thing.  He hasn’t dealt with this kind of thing before—at least he doesn’t think he has.  Sometimes things get jumbled in his mind.  But he can say with reasonable certainty that he has never been buried alive.

He lets out an exasperated groan, head falling back to rest against the bottom of the coffin.  This isn’t cute; this isn’t funny; he just wants out.  He feels around the seams for any weak spots.  Nada.  He pounds against the top of the coffin.  “Hello!” he calls.  “Olly olly oxen free!”

No answer, but he really hadn’t expected one.  Without his weapons or phone, all he can really do is wait for someone to find him.  That sounds fun.

…wait a minute.

How did he get here in the first place?

###

For the first time in the almost nine years they’ve been together, there’s no sign of Wade when Bucky awakens.  The fact that he wakes up alone in their bed doesn’t worry him.  What does worry him is that there isn’t a note or any other indication that Wade was home last night at all.

Bucky felt uneasy when Wade was running late and not answering his phone, but Bucky had faith in his lover, and figured Wade would be back by the next morning.  Now, it looks as if that didn’t happen.

He decides to check his phone.  He’s probably overreacting.  He’ll turn on his phone and there’ll be a new voicemail from Wade, apologizing for not making it home that night and telling him where he’s been.

Except that there is no message.  There is, however, one missed call.  It’s from a number he doesn’t recognize.  That’s when his heart drops.  Something tells him this call means trouble.

With some trepidation, he calls the number.  He paces as he listens to the ring.  Then there’s a click on the other end, and he holds his breath.

“Mr. Barnes,” says a male voice with a Russian accent.  “Or should I call you Winter Soldier?  I was wondering how long you would take.”

There’s something familiar about the voice, but Bucky can’t attach a name to it.  “Who is this?”

There’s a chuckle.  “Of course.  That would be your first question.  Who am I, not where is your lover.”

“I’m not worried about Wade,” Bucky lies.  “I know he can get himself out of whatever’s happened to him.  What I don’t know is, who the hell are you?”

“You’re a good liar, Barnes.  But not good enough.  You don’t even know what we’ve done with him or why.”

Bucky freezes.  “We?”

The other man’s voice takes on an amused tone.  “Don’t tell me you forgot us!  Or have you been too distracted living out your supposed happy ending?”  A bitter chuckle.  “Why should you get to live happily ever after when you’ve taken some much from others?  When you took my son?”

Now Bucky knows why that voice sounded so familiar.  He hasn’t heard it in twenty years.  “Smolin.”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

“I remember you trying to own me—to keep me from leaving even after the Soviet Union fell.”

“And I remember you getting free, anyway.  But that wasn’t enough, was it?  You had to come back for us, kill our families and leave us to suffer their loss.”

“I’m not the same person I was back then,” Bucky lies in his desperation.  “I regret what I did.”  That part’s a little bit less of a lie.  When he thinks back on some of the things he did as the Winter Soldier…killing a pregnant woman without even questioning his orders, killing a man while his daughter was nearby…yeah, he has some regrets, and if he could go back and do it again, he would have killed the men who tried to detain him and left their families alone.

“You’re exactly the same person you were,” Smolin continues.  “The only thing that’s changed is the reason you kill.  You kill for money now.  You used to have principles.  Ideas.  You’re more of a machine now than you were under us.”

Bucky winces at the word “machine,” assuming it’s meant to be a subtle jab about his metal arm.  “You’re trying to distract me,” he says.  “Now, where is he?”

The other man clucks his tongue.  “I’m not going to tell you that.  You took my family.  I took yours.  If you want him back, you’ll have to find him.”  With that, he hangs up.

Bucky’s eyes go wide as he dials the number again.  No answer.  “No, no, no, no.  Damn it, damn it, damn it!”  He slams the phone down on the table and braces himself against eh wall with his hands.

###

The air’s getting thicker.  Wade’s not sure how long he’s been buried, since he was unconscious at the time; it could’ve been more than an hour ago, for all he knows.  Judging by the fact that he’s unable to kick off the lid of the coffin, he guesses it’s been a while.

_Bucky woke up in Wade’s arms, as he so often did.  The difference was that this time, he realized he wanted to wake up this way every morning for the rest of his life._

Wade kicks at the lid of the coffin again, despite the fact that he’s tried and failed multiple times already.  He’s weakened from lack of oxygen, and decides not to try it again to prevent using even more oxygen.

_Bucky stirred, turned around in Wade’s arms to face the man.  He wasn’t sure what sparked this sudden realization—just that it was already there, and he’d only had to realize it.  He smiled as he reflected on their eight years together.  How he first recruited Wade to work with him; their first confusing hook-up; how he came to fall in love with his fellow mercenary.  There was no doubt he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this man._

Despite his attempts to conserve oxygen, Wade can feel himself slipping.  His body tenses as he clings to consciousness, refusing to let go.  He has to hold on.  For _him_.

_Wade’s eyes opened and he returned Bucky’s smile.  “Hey, Baby.  Why’re you smiling like that?”_

_Bucky’s grin widened.  “I love you.”_

_Wade chuckled, pulling the other man closer.  “I love you, too.”_

_“Then marry me.”_

_Wade pulled back to look at Bucky confusedly.  “Go back to sleep.”_

_“I’m serious, asshole!  I wanna marry you!”_

_Wade searched Bucky’s face as if looking for some kind of sign he was joking, but Bucky remained serious.  Wade gave a one-shouldered shrug.  “I’m not sure why you’d wanna marry me, but okay.  Let’s do it.  Let’s get married.”_

_Bucky’s grin returned, and he kissed the man._

Wade can’t fight it anymore.  His healing factor can only get him so far without oxygen to fuel it, and his body is starting to shut itself down.

It’s funny.  Before Bucky came into his life, he used to long for the peace of a permanent death.  He’s died before, but never for long.  Now that he has Bucky, though, things are different.  He can’t stand the thought of being buried here forever, of never being found, of his body never getting the chance to repair itself and shutting down permanently.  That can’t happen.  He can’t leave Bucky behind.

Unfortunately, his body has other ideas.  He closes his eyes, waiting, and he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

_Bucky broke the kiss to rest their foreheads together.  “I’m so happy.”_

_“I’m not doin’ so bad myself,” Wade murmured._

Bucky drives his metal fist through the wall as he remembers.  He has to get Wade back, and he will get him back.  At any cost.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic three years ago with every intention of writing a sequel where Bucky rescues Wade, but it never happened. However, since I saw the movie, I've been having some majorly epic Deadpool feels, so I think I might finally get around to writing that sequel.


End file.
